"For oh! My faithful Haly, / Another Care has taken up thy Master; / Spight of the high-wrought Tempest in my Soul, / Spight of the Pangs, which Jealousy has cost me; / This haughty Woman reigns within my Breast: / In vain I strive to put her from my Thoughts, / To drive her out with Empire, and Revenge: / Still she comes back like a retiring Tide, / That Ebbs a while, but strait returns again, / And swells above the Beach."
— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)
Author
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for Jacob Tonson
Date
1702
Metaphor
"For oh! My faithful Haly, / Another Care has taken up thy Master; / Spight of the high-wrought Tempest in my Soul, / Spight of the Pangs, which Jealousy has cost me; / This haughty Woman reigns within my Breast: / In vain I strive to put her from my Thoughts, / To drive her out with Empire, and Revenge: / Still she comes back like a retiring Tide, / That Ebbs a while, but strait returns again, / And swells above the Beach."
Metaphor in Context
ARPASIA.
Sure 'tis a Horror, more than Darkness brings
That fit's upon the Night; Fate is abroad.
Some ruling Fiend hangs in the dusky Air,
And scatters Ruin, Death, and wild Distraction,
O'er all the wretched Race of Man below:
Not long ago, a Troop of ghastly Slaves
Rush't in, and forc't Moneses from my Sight;
Death hung so heavy on his drooping Spirits,
That scarcely could he say--Farewel--for ever.
And yet, methinks, some gentle Spirit whispers
Thy Peace draws near, Arpasia Sigh no more;
And see the King of Terrors is at hand;
His Minister appears.
[Enter Bajazet, and Haly.
BAJAZET. aside to Haly]
The rest I leave
To thy dispatch. For oh! My faithful Haly,
Another Care has taken up thy Master;
Spight of the high-wrought Tempest in my Soul,
Spight of the Pangs, which Jealousy has cost me;
This haughty Woman reigns within my Breast:
In vain I strive to put her from my Thoughts,
To drive her out with Empire, and Revenge:
Still she comes back like a retiring Tide,
That Ebbs a while, but strait returns again,
And swells above the Beach.
(V.i, p. 61)
Sure 'tis a Horror, more than Darkness brings
That fit's upon the Night; Fate is abroad.
Some ruling Fiend hangs in the dusky Air,
And scatters Ruin, Death, and wild Distraction,
O'er all the wretched Race of Man below:
Not long ago, a Troop of ghastly Slaves
Rush't in, and forc't Moneses from my Sight;
Death hung so heavy on his drooping Spirits,
That scarcely could he say--Farewel--for ever.
And yet, methinks, some gentle Spirit whispers
Thy Peace draws near, Arpasia Sigh no more;
And see the King of Terrors is at hand;
His Minister appears.
[Enter Bajazet, and Haly.
BAJAZET. aside to Haly]
The rest I leave
To thy dispatch. For oh! My faithful Haly,
Another Care has taken up thy Master;
Spight of the high-wrought Tempest in my Soul,
Spight of the Pangs, which Jealousy has cost me;
This haughty Woman reigns within my Breast:
In vain I strive to put her from my Thoughts,
To drive her out with Empire, and Revenge:
Still she comes back like a retiring Tide,
That Ebbs a while, but strait returns again,
And swells above the Beach.
(V.i, p. 61)
Provenance
C-H Lion
Citation
Performed in December 1701. Over fifty entries in the ESTC (1702, 1703, 1714, 1717, 1719, 1720, 1722, 1723, 1725, 1726, 1728, 1733, 1735, 1736, 1744, 1750, 1755, 1757, 1758, 1764, 1766, 1770, 1771, 1772, 1774, 1776, 1778, 1784, 1790, 1792, 1795).
Text from Tamerlane. A Tragedy. As it is Acted At the New Theater in Little Lincoln's-Inn-Fields. By His Majesty's Servants. Written by N. Rowe (London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, 1702). <Link to 2nd edition in Google Books>
Text from Tamerlane. A Tragedy. As it is Acted At the New Theater in Little Lincoln's-Inn-Fields. By His Majesty's Servants. Written by N. Rowe (London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, 1702). <Link to 2nd edition in Google Books>
Date of Entry
07/17/2013
